


Finding Sanctuary

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [149]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Neighbors, Slow Burn, well as slow burn as it can be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 17:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “Honestly, you seem like you need a friend Draco. When I moved out to live on my own – the thing I needed the most in the world was a friend I could turn to for anything.” He said nothing, holding my eyes as his spoon uselessly stirred round and round his cup. “If you’d allow it, I’d like to be that friend for you.”When he spoke again, it was after a long pause. But when hedidspeak again, he was less defensive, less guarded but I didn’t let myself become too proud of the slight progress I’d made. “Why?”“Why not?”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [149]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 5
Kudos: 241





	1. Finding Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to other sites on 29/07/19 and it's been edited slightly before being posted onto here

When you’d lived alone for as long as I had, you slowly fell into your own schedule of doing things. It might have taken a long time for me to get used to doing _everything_ myself, but I acclimatised eventually. It was something that you simply had to do because no one else was there to pick up the slack by looking after your needs. If you didn’t put the washing machine on, you’d eventually run out of clean clothes and if you didn’t wash your dishes after every meal then you’d quickly find yourself without any dishes to use. It was an inevitability and _because_ it was an inevitability, I was certain that my new neighbour would quickly get used to it as well.

The stranger, tall and with hair so blonde that I’d mistaken it as white at first, was busy talking to his companion who was just as handsome but in a different way; dark-haired and taller than my new neighbour by almost an entire head. At first, the two men hadn’t noticed me as I ducked out of my flat, locking the door behind me but I had certainly noticed them from the way they were stood, heads ducked together as if they were speaking. Not that they were speaking for long. At the sound of my keys jangling as I locked the door, they instantly clammed up almost defensively.

Trapped by the sudden weight of their eyes on me, I sheepishly held up my reusable shopping bag, “I’m just heading out for the weekly shop. You must be my new neighbours?”

“Neighbour,” the darker-haired man corrected, gesturing to the still silent blond beside him. My eyes flittered towards the other man, offering him a hesitant smile that he didn’t seem to return but I didn’t focus on him for long. Stepping towards me and shaking my hand, my new neighbour's companion introduced himself, “Blaise Zabini at your service.”

“Draco Malfoy,” my neighbour _finally_ introduced himself, inclining his head slightly in my direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you?”

“Is it?” I questioned without pause, eyeing him closely with a curious tilt of my head. When the two men shared a glance, I offered them another smile. “Don’t pay any mind to what I say half of the time; I don’t tend to think before I speak.”

“Draco has the same problem,” Blaise confessed readily, carrying the entire conversation in the stead of his friend. He twisted a ring absentmindedly around his finger as he pointed out, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“That would be because I haven’t introduced myself,” I _swore_ that I saw a ghost of a smile flicker at the corner of Draco’s mouth. It was gone in a heartbeat, making me wonder if it was an illusion before I eventually focused once more on Blaise and finally introduced myself. 

There was a lull in the conversation where I found myself looking between the two not-quite-strangers; there was something off about them that I couldn’t put my fingers on about them. They didn’t scream out that they were strange but they _were._ They just didn’t quite fit in. Only I couldn’t seem to figure out just _what_ it was about them. 

“I should get going,” I said slowly, preparing to walk around them in order to continue down the hallway towards the lift. 

“You don’t need to rush off,” Blaise tried to say and I was certain that really it was just to be polite. “Draco might seem a bit quiet and like a tosser, but he’s just introverted. You don’t need to run away, Gallagher. It might seem like Draco doesn’t like you but –”

“Why are you talking for me?” Draco finally butted in, casting a glance towards me. “I never said I didn’t like –”

“I didn’t think that anyway,” I finally assured, offering Draco another smile. This one he definitely returned with a small one of his own. “You seem introverted and it’s not really my role to be casting thoughts on you anyway.” There was another silence and this time, when I looked towards Blaise, I swore the man had an arrogant upwards curl to the corner of his mouth; looking as if he had already figured out some secret of mine. Something told me that he was the type who would know my most embarrassing secrets if I hung around him for too long. “Anyway –”

“Draco’s not used to making friends,” Blaise spoke once more, gesturing towards his friend who threw him a disgruntled look. “He’s the sort that’s had the same friends since he was in nappies. Even in school, he didn’t branch out.”

“And you did?” Draco scoffed, as I silently wondered why I was still being held up here. All I wanted to do was go shopping!

“Anyway,” Blaise spoke over Draco, “he’s not good at making friends.”

“Well don’t worry,” I said finally, shoving my keys resolutely into my coat pockets, “I’ll look after him. Now if you gentlemen would please excuse me, I need to go shopping.” 

* * *

For the remaining duration of my day, my thoughts hadn’t settled on Draco, my strange neighbour with the even stranger name. Because I had so many other things to concern myself with, so much lingering paperwork that I needed to tend to before the end of the weekend that I didn’t give the blond-haired man any thought. Although he had _clearly_ never lived alone before and was no doubt experiencing some anxiety about the change, no part of me wanted to head next door to do something to make him feel better. It was only after I had completed all of the work for the weekend and once I had finished making myself some dinner, that my thoughts finally lingered on him. Did it make me a bad neighbour to not have thought about ways that I could help him? Or was it normal for people not to think often of their neighbours? I very rarely knew what was considered normal. 

Before I could lose myself further in thoughts of Draco, the oven beeped and I was quick to find my oven gloves. Opening the door and taking my lasagne out of the oven, I set it aside to cool slightly and closed the oven door again. Pulling off the oven gloves and throwing them onto the counter, I opened my kitchen cupboard and reached up to pull out a plate, only to halt for a moment. Looking over my shoulder towards the full lasagne dish, I frowned to myself. Would it be weird to ask him to join me for dinner?

I’d made far more food than I needed – mainly because I was planning on leaving it in my fridge – so it wasn’t like there wouldn’t be enough food. However, would it be strange to ask him? After all, what was the worst that could happen? He could say no; he could think I was a weirdo and never speak a word to me again. Did I really want to be seen as the weirdo next door? But then again, if someone had been there for _me_ when I’d first started to live alone, then everything would have been so much easier. 

“God I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I muttered to myself, finally drawing two plates out of the cupboard and setting them down beside the steaming lasagne dish. 

Before leaving my flat, I dusted my hands and peered into the mirror in the hallway. Unnecessarily checking my appearance and straightening out my top, I took a deep breath. 

“Who cares if he winds up thinking I’m a freak?” I asked aloud while knowing that my need to be liked meant that _I_ cared. 

Walking out of the flat, I left my front door open and well within eyesight as I walked the short distance towards Draco’s door. Hesitating for a moment on his doorstep, I took yet another moment to gather myself. Pressing his doorbell and waiting in silence, I eyed his doorbell again when there was no answer. Contemplating ringing the bell once more, I was caught midmotion as Draco finally opened the door. Lowering my hand instantly to my side, I studied Draco for a short moment, wondering why he was dressed so … stuffily at home. 

Not that my eyes lingered for much longer on his clothes. Instead, I catalogued the way his eyes raked over me, and upon realising that it was me, the tension fled his shoulders. His hand unfurled from the fist he’d curled into his side and he was _definitely_ hiding something behind his back. Just what was he hiding? 

“Gallagher,” he greeted eventually, offering me a short, abrupt nod. 

“Draco,” I returned with a smile that came much easier than any of his did. 

“Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, yes.” Gesturing towards my still open front door, I asked, “Have you had dinner yet?” Draco silently shook his head, continuing to watch me in a way that told me _exactly_ how little sense I was making to him. “I have the habit of cooking _far_ too much for just one person; fancy coming over to help me finish some of it up?” 

His eyes narrowed silently on me as he continued to watch me, thinking over what I had just suggested and I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that he was going to decline my offer. No doubt he thought that I was just some strange woman who lived next door to him and God – what if he thought I was obsessed with him or something? I _really_ wasn’t, I just wanted to do something helpful and nice and – 

“Thank you for the offer,” he said finally, taking me by surprise. 

My eyes flittered towards his, “Um?”

“Let me just lock up and I’ll be right over?” Draco turned as if to head back inside, but he hesitated a moment. “Is that alright?”

“I – yes, yes of course.”

Draco nodded just once and offered me a little, barely-there smile as he finally walked back into his flat. 

I didn’t let myself consider his unexpected agreement for long. Instead, I rushed back into my flat and hurried to set the rarely used dining table before Draco appeared. Somehow, I managed to time it so that by the time Draco appeared hesitantly in the open doorway, he found me standing _completely nonchalantly_ beside the dining table with the lasagne dish held between oven mitt protected hands. 

“Come in,” I ushered him in as I set the dish down. 

Draco was slow to comply, looking around the flat with inquisitive eyes but making no comment on the rather unorthodox decorating like many of my other guests had. Not many people had bright orange walls but then again, not many people wanted to spend as much time as they could in the warm sunlight. 

“Is this your first time living alone?” I asked, knowing that I would have to be the one to carry most of the conversation. Holding up two bottles of wine; one white, one red, I waited for Draco’s answer. 

“It is,” he said shortly, gesturing towards the red. “How did you know?”

“I was pretty much the same when I first started living alone,” I confessed, as I popped the cork and poured Draco a generous glass. When he hesitated to help himself to some lasagne and salad, I decided to help him to it; goodness knew the boy looked like he’d just lived through a war and could do with some meat on his bones. “It takes some getting used to.”

“Thank you,” he said eventually, picking up his knife and fork. 

Raising my wine glass to my lips, I watched Draco for a long moment, wanting to make sure that I hadn’t just forced him to eat something he didn’t like. But, when there was no grimace he tried to hide, I figured it was alright. And _then,_ when he nodded slowly to himself, I figured it was quite _good_.

“Why are you making the effort to get to know me?” Draco asked abruptly, raising his eyes to meet mine. Caught off guard by the sudden focus of grey, I swallowed nervously. 

“Because I wish someone had been there for me when I first left home.” 

* * *

Following on from our rather impromptu shared dinner, my relationship with Draco was tentatively growing towards a friendship that I certainly hadn’t expected to form. I didn’t think he expected it either. I certainly knew that after our first shared dinner, I hadn’t expected to repeat the experience, no matter how pleasant it had turned out to be. I’d contented myself to occupying a rather small part of Draco’s life and was all too ready to shove him into the preassigned box of neighbour that I occasionally shared dinner with. But then, the man had decided to go ahead and invite _me_ round his for dinner and how could I refuse that? 

Draco, with all his very obvious entitled aristocratic upbringing, had never needed to cook a meal for himself and the idea that someone who cooked for the first time could miraculously produce a stellar meal was absolutely impossible. And he certainly proved that sentiment. Although, it was all too endearing to witness as Draco grew uncharacteristically flustered when the oven started to smoke. I was quick to step in, opening the windows to release the smoke before the alarm could go off as Draco fished the baking tray out of the oven. He’d had no choice but to reluctantly throw away his hard work as I called out for a takeaway. We’d quickly decided that any home cooking was to be done in _my_ flat under _my_ supervision; I couldn’t stand by and watch him poison himself with poorly cooked food. 

The image of Draco’s pout, which he insisted wasn’t a pout, refused to live my mind and even days later as I drove home from work, I couldn’t help the instant smile that the image conjured. When he pouted like that, he didn’t seem anything like that cold man I’d met when he first moved in. Speaking of Draco – 

As I prepared to turn the corner at the end of the street, I spied him as he walked down the road with handfuls of shopping bags. Checking the rear-view mirror and signalling left, I pulled up on the side of the road. Draco, yet to spy me, continued walking until I beeped my horn at him. The sound startled him from his thoughts as he finally approached the car, hesitating for a moment and not getting the silent offer. 

“Come along Malfoy,” I demanded with a smile, hopping out of the front seat to open the boot so he could place his bags inside. When he hesitated again, I shook my head, “There’s no need to be stubborn, just come on.”

He didn’t need further prompting and placed his bags inside. Shutting the boot, I gestured for Draco to take the passenger’s seat and only when I was certain that he wasn’t going to get himself run over – because God knew the man seemed to struggle with the most mundane parts of daily life – I returned to my seat behind the wheel. Reaching for my seatbelt, I buckled myself in and looked towards Draco when I realised, he was watching me closely. Only then, after seeing me strap myself in, did he reach for his own seatbelt to buckle himself in, clinging to the band across his chest with white knuckles.

“Are you scared of cars?” I asked curiously, turning off my left signal and watching the traffic through the mirror.

“Something like that,” Draco agreed quietly, watching the traffic as I was.

“I didn’t even think Draco,” I apologised, giving up my search for space to pull out. Turning to look at him, I sighed as I admitted, “I shouldn’t have insisted you come along.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted again but when I continued to watch him apprehensively, he offered me a trace of a reassuring smile. “I’ll get over it.”

“If you’re sure?” He nodded once more and I finally pulled away from the pavement, joining the road. True to his word, it didn’t take Draco long to relax as his death grip on his seatbelt eased. 

Approaching a traffic light and slowing to a halt, I looked contemplatively towards Draco. Feeling the weight of my eyes on him, Draco stopped his admiration of the scenery and caught me in my admiration of _him_.

“What?” He watched me expectantly as I continued to watch him in silence. “Gallagher?”

“Out of all the shopping you’ve done, is there anything that will go off if it sits in my boot for a while?” 

Draco, not expected the question, shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“Alright then,” I said as the traffic light turned green again. “There’s a little café near our apartment block. Have you had the chance to try it out yet?” 

“I’m not sure if I’m the café type.”

“Oh please,” I rolled my eyes with a scoff. “You might think you’ve got a brooding thing going on at the moment but after you whined about having to throw your roast chicken in the bin, you don’t fool me one bit. So, what about it?”

Draco’s eyes were once again locked onto my face as he studied me for a long moment. My skin practically prickled under his gaze but I didn’t look at him and instead waited for his answer. 

“I think I’d like that.” 

When we finally reached the café, I’d parked the car and caught Draco once more in admiration of his surroundings. Part of me believed he was a country boy originally, not used to the hustle and bustle of city life but another part of me didn’t accept that; that image didn’t suit him. Not with the way his eyes would trail after technology as if he couldn’t understand how it worked – very few people did. But his eyes were always brimming with curiosity as if he wanted to _learn_ how they worked. The man was a puzzle, one that made less sense the more I tried to understand him. 

After reluctantly breaking him out of his musings with a gentle hand on his arm, I silently gestured towards the quaint café when Draco started in surprise. I couldn’t begin to understand what thoughts he was losing himself in. Needing no further prompting, Draco followed my lead into the café. Stepping into the cosy set up, my eyes trailed across the blackboards pinned to the wall behind the baristas and read through everything. 

“Looks like they’ve got a lot of options for lunch,” I spoke to fill the silence, turning towards Draco to add, “And lucky for you they’ve got more than enough choices of tea so you don’t need to humour me by drinking a coffee.”

“I don’t hate coffee,” he insisted, as if I hadn’t caught the grimace, he tried to hide upon trying an espresso for the first time. 

“I’m not judging Draco,” I insisted with a teasing smile, turning back towards the blackboards when Draco moved closer towards me to let a mother pushing a pram through the narrow walkway towards the door. 

Clearing my throat, I waited for him to draw away from me, but he didn’t. Rather, one of his arms came around me as he drummed a hand contemplatively against the countertop. He was too busy considering something to notice the way my eyes had shot upwards in search of his own.

“Gallagher,” he called out eventually, lowering his eyes to meet my own. 

“W-What?” He arched a silent eyebrow as if to check if I was alright but I silently waved away his concern. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s a welsh cake?” Draco tilted his head silently, wondering, “Is it like a scone?”

“In a way,” I murmured after a moment’s thought, moving finally to the front of the life. “There’s a difference there but I’m not that knowledgeable about baking so I have no idea.”

“That’s fair.”

“You can try some today.” Finally turning towards the waiting server, I offered the younger girl a smile and couldn’t help but smile understandingly at the way her eyes trailed appreciatively over Draco’s lithe frame. When she finally looked back towards me, we shared a brief but silent look of understanding; I got it. “Can I get a … pot of English Breakfast tea please and a tuna panini? Draco?”

“Hmm…,” his eyes trailed the blackboards once more. “Earl Grey and a ham and cheese panini for me, please.”

“Oh,” I said suddenly, as I started to rifle through my bag for my purse. “Can we get two of those welsh cakes as well, warmed please.” Finally finding my purse, I amended quickly, “Actually, make it four welsh cakes. Thank you very much.”

Once she had added two more welsh cakes to the total, the serving girl read out the new total. I opened my wallet, pulling out the right notes only to be beaten to it by Draco who wordlessly held out his card.

“Draco,” I tried to protest, watching as he stepped forward to put his card into the machine. I even tried to block the slot with my hand but he batted it easily away. “I thought I was supposed to be treating you?”

“We never discussed that,” he pointed out, glancing expectantly at me. “Look away so I can put the code in.”

I scoffed incredulously; I’d advised him that out of the goodness of my heart but the man was using it to tease me. Once Draco was finished paying, he accepted his receipt and thanked the staff before leading me further into the café. 

“When we walked in, I did a quick scout of the room; I think the best seats are by the windows; we can see the sea from there.” He admitted, and without another word, Draco led me towards the said table. 

Arriving at the empty table for two, Draco wordlessly pulled out my seat and took his seat only after pushing mine in. I had no idea who raised the man but he had some impeccable manners. I watched as Draco fixated his eyes onto the distant waves of the sea. For a moment I wondered just how long he’d be lost in his thoughts this time but it didn’t last long. In fact, it took the gentle clattering of the teacups on the tabletop to bring him from his thoughts. He looked, as I did, at our server who slowly set everything we’d ordered onto the table, one by one. He waited until I’d thanked the man and began to pour my own tea, Draco’s eyes remained heavy on my face. 

“What’s the matter?” I probed, stirring some sugar into my cup before adding the milk. When he still didn’t answer, I watched him from beneath my lashes, “Draco?”

“Why are you spending so much time with me?” he asked so abruptly that my spoon clattered against the edge of the teacup.

“ _What?_ ”

“You heard me.”

“Do you want the honest answer?” He nodded instantly. “Then let me remind you that I promised your boyfriend that I would look after you.”

Scowling, Draco poured his own tea as I cut my panini into more manageable pieces, “Blaise is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“Isn’t he?”

“ _Gallagher_.” Fearing that I would piss him off a little too much, I wiped the teasing smile from my face. “I’d like a real answer.” 

“Maybe I just want to see your handsome face more often. Did you consider that?”

There was the slightest semblance of a smile on his face before he dismissed it, becoming solemn once more. “The real answer.”

I considered him for a moment, wondering what had made him so defensive and cautious about the people he let near him. There had to be some backstory there, something that I certainly would never press him to share. No one became so guarded, so distrustful for no reason and I knew as certainly as I knew my own name that there had to be some reason. But you could never force someone to share their demons; you could only hope that by giving them some insight into some of _your_ demons that they would trust you enough to eventually share their own.

“Honestly, you seem like you need a friend Draco. When I moved out to live on my own – the thing I needed the most in the world was a friend I could turn to for anything.” He said nothing, holding my eyes as his spoon uselessly stirred round and round his cup. “If you’d allow it, I’d like to be that friend for you.” 

When he spoke again, it was after a long pause. But when he _did_ speak again, he was less defensive, less guarded but I didn’t let myself become too proud of the slight progress I’d made. “Why?”

“Why not?” 

* * *

A couple of days later I found myself once more in my kitchen, preparing to cook dinner for the pair of us. Draco still retained his thin frame despite putting on some much-needed weight. At first impression of him, I’d thought that he’d be a picky eater but at least in his example appearances really were deceptive. He wasn’t a picky eater – well, not too much of a picky eater anyway, and when he _did_ enjoy whatever I’d cooked for us, he could eat quite a bit. 

With a contemplative hum, I surveyed the ingredients in my fridge as I wondered just what to cook for us. Sometimes this was the issue with having a fully stocked fridge; I just had no idea what to cook. Determined to use the minced lamb, I hesitated between whipping up a homemade shepherd’s pie or to make some meatballs instead. Although, from recollection, Draco preferred shepherd’s pie. Hesitating once more, I decided that the best way to avoid making any mistakes was to run the decision by Draco in the first place. 

Closing the fridge door once more, I didn’t bother changing out of my slippers into more reasonable shoes and headed out of the flat. Walking the short pathway towards Draco’s front door, I shuffled from one foot to the other as I knocked on the door and waited for his answer, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to answer. 

But the wait this time took a little longer. And as I waited on his doorstep for what was probably a few seconds longer than normal, I clutched my hands together and wrung them slowly. The seconds continued to tick by until Draco finally, _finally_ opened the door with a smile. And God, if the unnecessarily long wait had been enough for me to think that there was something wrong, his smile made me certain. It was too big, too laid back and _way_ too out of place on his face. 

“Draco?” I asked cautiously, peering around him to scan the area behind him as if in search of an intruder that was in his house, threatening him. There was nothing out of place. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked when I finally met his eyes. 

“Is there?” I repeated, still not convinced that nothing was wrong. When he continued to look back at me, with no clear signs that anything was wrong apart from his smile that had dimmed a little bit and now looked more natural. “I just um, had something to ask you.”

“Ask me?” he repeated, waiting for me to follow up my words. But I found myself standing in silence, peering round him once more at the sound of voices. 

Only the voices, two male ones, weren’t saying anything threatening and were rather laughing. I heard one of them enquire where Draco was until sure enough, footsteps approached the front door which was held ajar by Draco’s shoulders. I peered around him, giving in to my nosey urges and failing when Draco moved physically to block my view. Upon raising my eyes to his, he teasingly arched an eyebrow.

“Gallagher? Something I can help you with?”

“I didn’t realise you had company.” I took a step away from him, preparing to head back home when Draco reached out to grab my hand, holding me steady. 

“You said you had something to ask me,” he insisted, trailing off at the approaching voices. 

Draco glanced over his shoulder, not releasing my hand and I was quick to follow him. We both watched the two approaching men and vaguely, I recognised one of them as the man that had helped Draco move in all those months ago. I struggled for a moment to remember his name – something Zambini. Maybe. 

“Look, I don’t want to intrude,” I insisted, steadily removing Draco’s hand from mine. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“It’s alright,” he insisted, looking more than a little confused at my retreat. “I’m just meeting up with some old friends from school – Blaise and Theo.”

‘Blaise’ shouldered Draco out of the way, opening the front door properly and peering down at me with a familiar smile. “Well, Miss Gallagher, fancy seeing you here. When Draco said the two of you were close, I thought he was lying.”

“Why would I be lying about something like this?” Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes and grabbing Blaise by the back of his jumper. He pulled on his friend, drawing him away from me as he demanded, “Don’t overwhelm her.” 

“Sorry about him,” the third man who had been silent until then, finally spoke up as he gestured towards Blaise. “He’s a bit socially inept.”

“Socially inept?” Blaise exclaimed incredulously, wrestling out of Draco’s hold. “ _You_ of all people are calling _me_ socially inept!”

Draco, growing tired of listening to Blaise’s one-sided squabbling with Theo, eventually joined me in the hallway. He shut the front door behind him and glanced back at me with an apologetic smile. 

“I forgot how full-on they – Blaise can be at times.” He shrugged, “It’s been a while.”

Because it really _had_ been a while. Draco had moved in months ago now, closer to a year and as far as I knew, he hadn’t seen his friends since Blaise had helped him move in. And goodness knew that he wouldn’t appreciate my intruding on this much needed time with his friends. 

“Well have fun, Draco,” I offered with a smile, turning in the direction of my flat. Gesturing to my half-open door, I offered, “I’m planning on making shepherd’s pie and I’ll leave you some. I know how much you like it.”

“Thanks.” He hesitated for a moment, before eventually reaching out to grab my arm when I made a move to finally return towards my home. “Wait – you don’t, you don’t have to go now. You can stay.”

“I think I’d be out of place,” I admitted, lifting a hand and placing it on top of the one grabbing my arm. Squeezing it once, I lifted his hand and removed it from me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

Draco paused for a long moment before eventually returning, “See you tomorrow.” 

* * *

Occasionally, whenever the opportunity cropped up, I liked to take the extra hours at work. Although the extra hours weren’t completely necessary, it meant that I had a bit more extra money to put into my savings account at the end of the month. And because it was so normal for me to pick up these extra shifts or extra hours when they popped up, I didn’t think anything of what would change upon returning home. I was so used to returning home to an empty flat, that I never expected for someone to wait for my return. Even now, I _still_ didn’t expect there to be someone waiting for my return. And so, it understandably shocked me when I returned home, after working overtime to find Draco standing in the hallway beside my front door. He’d been waiting for a long time as well if the way he was slumping against the door said anything. 

“Draco?” I called out curiously, stepping out of the lift and approaching the man. “How long have you been waiting here?”

He glanced down at his watch, greeting me with a tired smile. “You usually finish at 4.”

“And now it’s gone past 6.” Shaking my head in silent confusion, I wondered how it was possible for someone to lack such common sense. “I had overtime today; if you saw that I was late, why didn’t you text me and I would’ve told you that?” 

“I still don’t get how to use that phone,” he admitted as if that made any sense. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say to the man; he was intelligent – _clearly_ but I must’ve explained how to use his phone at least a dozen times by now. Only – who in this day and age didn’t know how to use a bleeding phone?

Realising that he was still watching me, I wondered, “Why didn’t you just head back to yours then?” 

The look he gave me suggested that this time _he_ was the one contemplating my intelligence. “Then I wouldn’t know what time you were back.” 

“Honestly Draco,” I began with mild exasperation; why did it seem that the longer I hung around him the rational became irrational and the irrational was becoming rational? But I trailed off, watching as he lifted the plastic bag in his hand slightly, bringing it to my attention. “What?”

“I got take away,” he explained with a soft smile, “your favourite as well.”

“And now I feel bad about making you wait so long,” I chastised, rifling through my handbag in search of my keys.

“You should feel bad.” Draco’s teasing smile grew even further when I lifted my eyes towards him mid search of my keys. 

Finally finding the keys which always, _always_ somehow ended up in the very bottom of my handbag, I gestured silently for Draco to step away from my door. He obliged easily, moving out of the way and waiting until I opened the door. Once we were both insides, I slipped out of my shoes and walked ahead, knowing that Draco would sort himself out on his out. 

Reaching up and removing my hair tie, I rubbed at my scalp to ease the ache of having it tied up for so long. Casting a look over my shoulder, I watched as Draco walked towards my kitchen, rifling through the cupboards to get some glasses.

“I’m going to warm everything back up,” Draco offered, “go and get changed.”

“Thanks.”

“Just remember,” his voice carried after me as I headed towards my bedroom, “I’m not this sweet with everyone.”

Laughing quietly, I called back, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Planning to quickly change out of my clothes and into my pyjamas, I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not I had the time to take a quick shower. I really couldn’t make Draco wait so long but – but the man seemed to have an issue with all forms of technology. Knowing him, it would take a good while for him to figure out how to use the microwave and despite his offering to warm our food, he was likely useless. So maybe I did have the time after all. 

Grabbing everything I needed and piling it all in my hands, I walked barefoot out of my room and past the kitchen towards the bathroom. As I passed the kitchen, I couldn’t help but smile when I realised that Draco really _was_ struggling with the microwave. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” I announced as I drifted past Draco who was leaning down to read all the buttons on the microwave.

He waved his hand distractedly in answer, even nodding slightly but not lifting his eyes from the microwave. I did my very best to stifle my giggle, knowing that it would only set him off and make him have a temper tantrum. Reaching the bathroom, I hopped quickly into the shower and did my very best not to take too long because _surely_ Draco wouldn’t take that long. 

After the shower, I changed into my pyjamas and wrapped my hair in a towel on top of my head. By the time I walked out of the bathroom and into the front room, I found Draco bringing the food towards the sitting room and setting it onto the coffee table. 

“Did you figure out how to use the microwave then?” I teased, easily spying the steam coming off of the food. 

“Something like that,” he answered vaguely, settling down on the sofa and patting the space beside him. 

Grabbing the remote from the TV stand, I turned the TV on before sitting cross-legged on the sofa. From the corner of my eye, I watched Draco’s reaction as I flickered through the channels, making note of the tiny frowns that appeared on his face whenever I flickered onto a reality TV show. Eventually finding a David Attenborough documentary and knowing Draco’s utter adoration for all things David Attenborough, I finally settled down to eat.

Reaching forward to pick up a pair of chopsticks and my plate of chow mein, I readily dug in. Draco followed suit, after shrugging out of that _ridiculous_ suit jacket that he insisted on wearing. He settled back against my sofa cushions and I wondered whether he would raise his feet as well only to remember how horrified he was at the suggestion; he claimed it was bad manners. 

“Gallagher,” Draco called out slowly when the commercial breaks appeared. I glanced curiously towards him, chewing around a mouthful of noodles. “Do you ever miss your parents?”

I watched him for a long moment, already knowing that this was nothing to do with _my_ missing my parents but rather _him_ missing his family. Waiting until I had swallowed my food and washing it down with some juice, I set my plate down on the coffee table. Turning my body so I was facing him as I sat, I studied him for a long moment. 

“My parents weren’t really involved in my life,” I admitted after a long moment. “To be honest, I don’t know who they are.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, instantly regretting his question. Draco reached out towards me, a finger searching out to play with some of the hair that had come out of the towel. 

“You couldn’t have known.” Shrugging, I caught his hand, holding it steady between mine. “This issue isn’t about my family, though, is it? You miss your family, don’t you? I know that moving here was a big change for you.”

“How did you know?”

“Sometimes I look at you and it feels like you’re from a different world.” 

He let out a soft, incredulous chuckle in response. “You’re not completely wrong.” 

“I didn’t think I was.” 

“I – I ‘m not sure if I belong in that world anymore,” he confessed, turning his hand in mine to link our fingers together. For a moment, startled by the contact, my eyes flickered down to our hands before looking back to his eyes. “But I don’t know if I belong in this world – yours, either.” 

“Well,” I murmured after a long moment, searching his eyes, “you need to find what you like best about both worlds and combine them.”

“It’s not so easy,” he said instantly. “But I think it’s the only answer.” 

* * *

Draco, during one of our later nights together, had confessed that he had never been to the London Eye, regardless of all the time he’d spent in London during his life. He’d admitted that he’d grown up in the heart of the English countryside on his family estate and very rarely saw the need to head into the touristy parts of London. So naturally, on my weekend off, I had corralled the blond into my car and headed to spend our weekend for the most tourist dense part of London. 

There had been very little complaints on his part, and the occasional grumble he’d given as we waited in the queue for the London eye felt as if he was complaining to keep up appearances. I knew Draco well enough to know that he hadn’t meant any of it. 

Although, maybe I didn’t know Draco as well as I thought I did because when we _did_ get onto the London Eye, he had the time of his life. Even if he did make a remark about a group of schoolgirls who got a little too close to him whilst trying to take pictures of the view. I never voiced my concerns to Draco, but whilst we’d been waiting in the queue, I continued to worry that he would have a panic attack mid-air. He insisted that he wasn’t scared of heights, but he had a horrendous aversion to flying. And in fact, once we got onto the London Eye, I realised that Draco _loved_ heights; loved the view he got from being held up above the buildings. 

But, like all good weekends out, it quickly came to an end and we eventually had to make our way back towards our flats. Draco, for once, was holding up most of the conversation as I was far too tired from driving for hours on the motorway. As we waited in the lift to reach out the floor and as he talked, my eyes lingered on the souvenirs he had bought back with him. Souvenirs that he’d insisted were tacky – but that certainly didn’t stop him from buying that magnet. Or the hat. Or the mug. Or the – 

When the lift reached our floor, Draco stepped out first with a hand at the small of my back, ushering me out. 

“So,” I started as we walked down the hallway, “did you like the London Eye? And none of that forced sour rubbish; there’s no one here to make sure that you’re keeping up your daily dose of snootiness.”

“Daily dose of snootiness,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking out across the hall. “I’ll have you know that – ” 

When he trailed off abruptly, I stopped in my step. Turning towards Draco with mild concern, I reached out to touch his arm, hoping to snap him out of whatever had frozen him. It worked eventually, Draco blinking out of his daze as looking down at me. 

The surprise didn’t ease from his features as he glanced back away from me again. “Um –”

His uncharacteristic speechlessness had me following his gaze towards a woman stood in front of his front door. The older woman, standing in the hallway in heels and with what looked like a black fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders, finally looked away from Draco’s door. She glanced down the corridor until her eyes settled onto the pair of us. Despite the fair distance between us, I could easily see the resemblance between the pair of them.

“Draco,” the unfamiliar woman called out as I looked between the two … relatives. 

Draco, on his part, finally regained control of his legs and took slow steps to close the space between them. I remained further back, not wanting to intrude. “Mother.” 

For a moment, I wondered how I could progress from this situation; was I to walk right past the pair of them or to introduce myself to Draco’s mother. But then, wouldn’t that just be forcing myself into what was quite clearly a bit of an awkward reunion. Would it be less awkward for me to just walk right past the pair of them and to duck into my home before making a fool of myself? 

“Gallagher.” The call of my surname snapped me out of my internal worrying, bringing my eyes sharply back towards Draco who was now standing beside his mother. He had an arm outstretched towards me, “Come here.”

“I don’t know if –”

“Come here,” he repeated once more; firmer and yet softer all the same. 

Forcing my feet to follow through, I took steady steps towards Draco’s downright intimidating mother. She stood beside her son, looking all parts the regal beauty who matched her son who _continued to wear those damned suits_ and yet here I stood, in my comfortable clothes and looking like I hadn’t put any effort in this morning. When really, I had.

Reaching Draco’s side, I glanced hesitantly between Draco and his mother. Eventually, Mrs Malfoy took the lead, extending a gloved hand towards me. 

“Narcissa Malfoy,” she introduced, smiling politely at me as I took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Malfoy,” I returned, shooting a save me look towards Draco before finally looking back to his mother. “I live next door to Draco.”

“I probably would have died in my first week without her, Mother,” he added as the silence progressed. 

Like a reflex, my elbow reached out to jab Draco in the side; his mother didn’t need to hear something so stupid. But his mother also didn’t need to see me assault her son with my elbow. Fidgeting for a moment under her weighty eyes, I took a backwards step. 

“I should give you two some privacy,” I offered, preparing to take a step around Draco and dodging the hand that came out to catch mine in order to keep me still. “I’ll see you later, Draco.”

* * *

Draco’s mother didn’t linger long. Although I did my very best not to linger in the hallway in order to listen into any part of Draco’s conversation, I still found myself gravitating towards my front door. At first, I’d practically pressed my ear against the wall to try to listen to what they were saying and heard absolutely nothing – I never had. It was as if no sound escaped his flat. And so, even as I was busy whisking the single cream by hand for the fresh scones, I was standing in the hallway, listening out for when – if – Draco’s mother left. 

And sure enough, she did leave. Not that long after she’d arrived. Upon hearing the sound of Mrs Malfoy’s voice in the hallway, my hand stilled on the whisk and arched my ear towards the door. Vaguely, through the door, I heard the distorted greetings of mother and son until they both voices disappeared altogether. Left with nothing to do but to continue whisking the cream, I prepared to head back to the kitchen, lost in my thoughts. Part of me wanted to know what they were talking about, but the other – 

There was a knock on the door, four times and evenly paced and distinctly Draco. 

I hesitated for a moment, glancing towards my front door. Eventually, I set the bowl of whipped cream down and made my way towards the door. Opening it, I looked up into Draco’s face and took one look at him before silently stepping aside to let him in. He smiled thankfully, walking in and following me as I returned to my cream. 

“What are you doing?” he asked slowly, watching from behind me.

Holding my whisk aloft in explanation, I added, “Whipping cream.”

“Whipping cream?” He accepted the bowl and the whisk when I foisted them towards him at the sound of the oven timer dings. 

“I made scones and I had no clotted cream at home so whipped will have to do.” Shrugging slightly, I grabbed my oven mitts and retrieved the tray of scones from the oven. Setting them aside to cool, I watched as Draco started to whip the cream in my stead whilst keeping his eyes on me. “What?”

For a moment, his eyes narrowed. “You bake when worried.” 

“I don’t,” I denied in a heartbeat.

“ _Gallagher_.”

“I just wanted some scones.” 

Avoiding his eyes, I lifted the scones one by one from the tray and put them on the plate. We both worked in silence, the only sound the scraping of the whisk in the metal bowl until I finished. Putting the tray in the sink to wash up, I approached the fridge to bring up the jam when Draco pointedly cleared his throat. I looked curiously toward him. 

“Draco?”

“My mother left.” 

Silently, he approached me to show me the cream. When I nodded that it was fine, he set the whisk and the bowl beside the plate of scones. I continued to watch as Draco navigated my kitchen with ease, switching the kettle on and bringing out some mugs for tea. He clearly wanted to say something, but I would need to wait until he worked out how to wrangle his sentences together. Closing the fridge and approaches the scones, I studied Draco from the corner of my eye. How had I ever thought this man would be hard to read? He was so very easy to read. I could see the tension in him just from the way he was holding himself. 

“My mother … wants me to return home.” Draco finally spoke, keeping his back to me as he made us both some tea. And on my part, I did my best not to let his words outwardly affect me. Instead, I cut a scone in half and spread some jam on one side. Spooning cream onto the other, I sandwiched the two sides together and set them aside. Picking up the next to repeat the process, I turned towards Draco when he slowly explained, “She’s beginning to get lonely with my father in … with my father gone. Mother managed to bare these months alone and it’s getting too much.” 

I made a vague sound of understanding as I plated a few of the scones on a saucer. Covering the bowl of whipped cream in clingfilm and grabbing the jam, I placed them back in the fridge. When I looked back towards Draco, he was standing with the two mugs with his eyes rooting me to place.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“Well,” I started slowly, picking up the saucer and gesturing for him to follow me into the front room, “what do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” he admitted, putting the mugs down on the coffee table. He continued to watch as I did the same with the scones and settled onto the sofa. “Please just say anything.”

“Alright.” Reaching for my mug, I ran my thumb soothingly over the handle. With a soft smile, I raised my eyes towards the still standing Draco, “You missed your mother; are you glad you saw her again?”

“I – ” for a moment, Draco struggled with the unexpected question. “I did miss her a lot, and I didn’t realise just how much I missed her until I saw her again.”

“And that’s natural.” Draco, seemingly feeling more at ease once again, settled beside me and grabbed a scone and a saucer. He broke off a smaller part of the scone and popped it into his mouth, smiling at the taste. But, feeling my lingering eyes, he turned towards me only to frown at the sight of my sad smile, “Your mother wants you to return home and you want to go home as well, right?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Draco searched my eyes, seeming as if he wasn’t going to answer me. Eventually, he did, nodding his head just once. 

“I think it’s time I went home.”

“Well,” I forced a bright smile, breaking our prolonged eye contact, “it was fun having you as my neighbour for these past months – almost a year really.” 

“Surely I’ve been more than just a neighbour to you.” This time, I was the one to not answer for a moment, I was the one to search _his_ eyes. And this time, I was the one to nod. Draco, satisfied, nodded and didn’t try to hide the smile curling around the corner of his mouth. 

Slowly, the pair of us settled into silence with us both seemingly lost in our thoughts. Occasionally, I would take sips of my tea and break off part of a scone. We needed to talk about this and yet, neither one of us wanted to broach the subject. Only this was a very real subject that we were going to have to broach because one day, Draco would be gone, back to the life he had before he moved to London. The life he had before me. 

“Do you remember your advice?” he broke the silence, prompting me to look towards him. 

“What?”

“You told me to find what I liked best about this world and to take it back to the one I grew up in?” He waited for a sign that I remembered and I did. “Well, what if you’re the thing I like best about this world. What then?”

Tightening my hold on my mug, I didn’t dare look away from his eyes. “Draco –”

“And before you start to say question me, I mean it.” For a moment it looked like he would look away from me, but he didn’t. Draco’s gaze remained steady. “What if I wanted to be more than friends with you?” 

“Like a boyfriend?” He nodded and I struggled to hide my smile. “Well, if I’m being honest, I have a condition – you can’t wear suits all the time.” 


	2. Epilogue: 9 Years Later

_9 YEARS LATER_

As my relationship with Draco progressed, I figured out just how _different_ the worlds we’d grown up in were. Magic was a big part of Draco – it was the reason why he had such apathy, and yet such a fascination towards technology but it was also the reason why he was so inept at doing the most simple of tasks for himself. Apparently magic made wizards lazy and I was adamant that Scorpius wasn’t going to rely on his magic for every little thing. And that was the reason why I wanted Scorpius to attend a normal school before attending Hogwarts. I didn’t want him to have a private tutor and I wanted him to have the opportunity to socialise with children his own age. 

However, because Scorpius _was_ magical and _was_ prone to outbursts of magic, he had to attend one of the newer magical schools. At first, Draco had protested to having Scorpius out of the house for almost 8 hours a day but then, after Scorpius in school for a week, he was sold on the idea. The longer Scorpius was out of the house, the more time we had together. The time that we always made the most of. 

“Darling,” Draco said as he walked beside me, through the school gates. His hand, the one that steadily held my own, swung between us as we navigated our way through the waiting crowd of parents. I looked sharply towards Draco, halting what I _knew_ he was going to say. He knew better than to finish his sentence. But still, he let out an almost silent sigh. 

Eventually, I released my hand from his. My husband, always seeking my touch, sought out my hand again but I clasped my own together and held them over my distended stomach as I continued to waddle – like both father and son liked to insist. _I, however,_ was adamant that I _didn’t_ waddle. 

“Go on ahead,” I insisted when Draco looked towards me. He cast a glance to his watch, checking just how much time we had left until the end of the school day. Draco hated making Scorpius wait, claiming he didn’t want his son to have to wait around with a worry that no one was coming for him. “I know you don’t want Scorpius to wait, so just go ahead.”

Draco looked back at his watch once more, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” with a laugh, I motioned for him to go on ahead. “I’m going to sit on that bench up ahead and just wait for you two to come to me.” 

Extending a hand towards me, Draco grabbed my hand and escorted me safely through the crowd – glaring towards whoever got too near to bumping my stomach. After making sure that I was alright and making sure the bench was safe– as if it was going to catch on fire at any moment – Draco dropped a lingering kiss to my waiting lips. He was reluctant to draw away, as he always was, before promising against my lips that he would return soon.

When he finally drew away, Draco took one more glance down at his watch before giving a murmured curse. Straightening up quickly, Draco searched over the top of the crowd to see if Scorpius’s class had been let out yet, but they hadn’t.

“Stay there!” Draco called out over his shoulder as he jogged through the crowd towards the door to Scorpius’s classroom. Nodding with a laugh, I waved him away and settled down and prepared to wait. 

And now that I was left alone, I found myself standing under the stares of all the curious magic folk around me. It wasn’t something new – it was something that I’d experienced from the very first moment I’d set foot in the wizarding world. It was something I understood as well; a _Malfoy_ had married a muggle-born. In fact, not even one generation back, the family I had been married into had been well known for their blood purism and everyone thought for someone like Draco to marry a muggle would be the equivalent to pigs flying. And yet, not a single one of them knew Draco. Not like I knew him. 

Sure, they had all heard the tales of his part in the war that had haunted his adolescent. They knew that he’d turned traitor to the ‘bad guys’ and acted as a spy for the right people. They knew that in the end he’d made the right choice but they didn’t know that he’d had to pay a price for it. They didn’t know that his life had been in danger for a good while after the war and that was why, after a year or so of struggling in the wizarding world, he’d sought refuge in the muggle world. He hadn’t returned even when all the people who sought to harm his family had been caught – no he’d only returned for his mother. But I knew, because of a confession Draco had made to me, that I was one of the reasons he chose to linger in the muggle world for far longer than he had to – 

“Mum!” 

Scorpius’s voice brought me from my thoughts and just like that, my eyes were searching the crowd for my son. And I found him eventually as he sat on his father’s shoulders as the pair of them made their way through the crowd. Scorpius laughed brightly, waving at me from his vantage point and I waved back. Standing in preparation, I approached both my boys when they got close enough. 

“Mum!” Scorpius called out once more, “Hold my hand.”

With an indulgent smile, I raised my hand for him to hold. But Scorpius was reluctant to take it upon realising that he would have to lean down to hold my hand. His brows furrowed as he thought deeply in search of a solution – much like his father’s brow creased when he was deep in thought. Seemingly coming up with a solution, he nodded resolutely.

“Hold my feet instead.”

This time when I laughed, Draco joined in. Entertaining Scorpius, I held onto the end of his trouser leg and he was satisfied. Together, our small family walked out of the schoolyard and I listened as my boys talked about what we were going to do for the school holiday. Scorpius claimed to already know what he wanted.

“Let’s go to the London Eye again!” he declared, swinging his leg excitedly and paying no heed to how he practically kicked his father in the chest. 

“Again?” Draco complained as if he wasn’t already looking forward to it too. I shook my head in amusement; both father and son were the same. 

They both loved their heights, and the London Eye and when the time came, they could both like quidditch. God, I had no idea how I would cope when Draco actually followed through on his tentative plan of buying Scorpius a broom. 


End file.
